This morning I arose at 5:30, while it was still night. I sat on the deck and had to read by flashlight. Yet before I knew it, there was enough light to read. The shift from night to day didn’t happen suddenly, all at once. It was gradual, but distinct.
*
The handle on the shower of our vacation house is broken. If you turn it to the left, you get scorching hot water. One temperature: burning. Take it to the right, and it’s icy cold. You say, “just put it in the middle” and I tell you this: that turns it off. I’ve spent my showers quickly jumping from hot to cold, trying to rinse in the amount of time the water switches. (This is not a pleasant way of bathing, BTW.)
*
Our body is wired to to jump into stress mode like my broken shower knob. We go from fine to chaos with a quick switch, thanks to adrenaline, cortisol, and other helpful biochemical reactions. In our earliest habitats, this kept us alive.
However, the switch doesn’t work the opposite direction. Getting into a mode of relaxation is much more like the sunrise, and happens with change over time.
*
Our culture feels wired like the shower knob, bouncing from one thing to another, trying to find comfort in the brief in-between states. But we live in bodies that need gradual shifts. My yoga practice often offers this. I’ve found it in some church worship services. It happens for me with an evening with friends – a gradual shift toward restfulness and renewal. It takes time and some awareness, but those moments of restfulness are available when we show up with the expectations of a sunrise state of mind – and body!
